hat I am packing my bag a

o far fro

it scares the living hell into the humans that find their residence here. Now, if living in a loophol

ck cloud over your shoulder. But, you put a demon on earth, well, there will be no way that you could see the difference. He shall, however, need to fill his craving for flesh.

hat deaths I shall be looking out for. Therefore I am counting on

rch from. Yet, I know that this is oddly familiar. If I walk just but two blocks down this main road, I shall find that park where I was captivated by that beauty. Now there

h me

ng for a

what he told me. It will just be in the same place where my eyes fell on that beauty. So as I find that very park with that very bench, I grab a newspaper, of cour

rection where I last saw

My aim...looking for someone that died quite unusual. So as I scan the pages, there is nothing that is truly standing out. The other

day in and living happy lives. It is strange what people see as what their happiness is. For me, it is watching every asshole down there get tortured the way that

ese humans are too happy. It is not even natural to look so happy about a butterfly that is fl

, one body, two souls... But there should be a limit to being affectionate. This is rather hard on the eye. Why not just sit next to each other... There is no way that you shall see two d

t they do as I would stic

ft pink rose with delicate hints of lily, and if you smell the scent even deeper, there are speckles of vanilla. I have by far never, and I have lived for a la

am w

led this sc

tch a glint of her. The same beauty that only but captur

is not my

e near me, let alone talk to me? Why would she even, and this is wishful thinking, but why would she even dare to come to sit next to me? What is this fe

r. My eyes do not leave her curves that move elegantly with each step that she takes. Her long brown hair is bl

en

I share this b

do

et my body to work with my head, I look into those deep brown e

sits down next to me, but yet I have been giv

ome from, it is not r

s, I have been on my own occasion where I also should not be. But that is not the point. How can the

e that you are n

of it. She only stares at me from underneath the thickest black eyelashes that I have probab

magine what they would feel like if I just run my thumb over them. Her lipgloss makes them glitter in the aftern

re staring

allow each syllable to stretch from my lips. Then I reach for her

ppointment, she remains, her